Case of the Crimson Alchemist
by Thrudi
Summary: When sociopathic alchemist Solf J. Kimblee, also known as the Crimson Alchemist, starts rampaging around Ishvaal with a Philosopher's stone, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang and his faithful subordinates, Maes Hughes, Jean Havoc, and Riza Hawkeye, are assigned to capture the rogue alchemist. Set during the Ishvaalan War of Extermination. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood.
1. Chapter 1

"Is that a soldier?"

"No. It is a state alchemist!"

Solf J. Kimblee grinned, relishing the terror in those words.

He stood on top of a building overlooking the main plaza in the convent district of Ishval. Like a vengeful god getting ready to strike down puny mortals, Kimblee stood above his victims looking down and trying to decide who to aim the main force of his alchemy at. Who among the Ishvalans below was worthy to be the leading instrument in the divine chorus he intended to make with the last breathes of their lives.

Kimblee's eyes fell on a man wearing the pale tunic and red sash of an Ishvalan monk.

Perfect

Kimblee always felt a macabre sense of pleasure in sending religious leader to meet their maker. In death, they would be closer to their god then they ever had in life. After all, Kimblee was granting their greatest desire. Wasn't the point of religion to be as close to God as possible?

Grinning, Kimblee clapped his hands together. The markings on his palms crossed, forming a transmutation circle, allowing him to call on his alchemy. Crimson power ripped from his hands, tearing hexagonal chunks out of the wall of the building beneath him as it tore towards the Ishvalans below him and headed straight for the monk.

Kimblee closed his eyes and listened to the dying screams of his victims.

While most people couldn't get past the death rattle in a scream, Kimblee heard the sweetness behind it. The notes that flew from a body as part of its final breath were the purest Kimblee had ever heard.

The symphony Kimblee now heard was only surpassed by the one coming from the souls trapped in the philosper's stone in his stomach. Their death screams stretched on forever frozen just like the souls they belonged to in the blood red crystal. Without their power, the music Kimblee made would not be quite as sweet.

Kimblee opened his eyes as the screaming ended the stillness of death took its place.

A cloud of smoke from the explosion Kimblee had caused covered the courtyard below in a fluffy dark gray cloak.

Kimblee waited for it to clear with baited breath. He felt like an artist waiting to unveil his masterpiece for the first time.

Blue light flashed in the courtyard and Kimblee heard a voice saying something, but he couldn't make out the words.

That marred Kimblee's enjoyment and he frowned.

A survivor. How annoying

The smoke cleared and Kimblee spotted the survivor.

A man with glasses stood over the Ishvalan monk Kimblee had aimed at. The man's left arm was missing, a pool of blood dripping from the empty sleeve where it had been a moment before. Blood soaked his tunic, both from his own missing arm and the monk he tended to.

Kimblee noted that the man had black alchemic tattoos swirling around his remaining arm in black ink. The monk possessed an arm with the same tattoos. That meant the man with the glasses was some kind of alchemist and that he had transmuted his own arm onto the monk's body in a desperate bid to save him.

How pathetic.

"I didn't expect to find an Ishvalan alchemist. Isn't alchemy heresy in the eyes of Ishvala," Kimblee called down to the man with the glasses.

The alchemist turned towards Kimblee then back towards the monk on the ground. The monk was bleeding badly from a wound on his face. The alchemist couldn't save the monk and still fight Kimblee and he knew it.

The alchemist's dilemma was solved, however, by the appearance of two blond haired heads, which peaked out from behind the building nearby.

Amsterians. Kimblee realized.

As the man and woman stepped out of the alley and approached the pair of Ishvalans, Kimblee recognized them.

They were the doctors Rockbell. A troublesome pair of Amestrian doctors who would heal any combatant be they Ishvalan or Amestrian.

Kimblee toyed with the idea of killing them along with the two Ishvalans, but decided against it. He called down to them, "You can have the monk, but the Alchemist is mine. Attempt to assist him and you will share his fate."

The woman looked up, anger flashing in her eyes, but her husband had moved to the head of the monk and was grabbing him under his arms.

"He is unconscious and very heavy. I need you to help me carry him," Mr. Rockbell said.

Mrs. Rockbell tore her angry gaze from Kimblee and took monks legs. Together, she and her husband lifted the Ishvalan monk and bore him down the street and out of sight.

"You know the monk saved isn't going to thank you for that. You used alchemy to save him. Now he is permanently marked with what he considers to heretical tattoos," Kimblee commented.

The Ishvalan alchemist said nothing. He slammed his remaining fist on the ground. Blue light flashed and a diminutive catapult formed from the paving stones of the courtyard.

Kimblee ducked as it started hurling chunks of stone the size of his fist at him.

The crimson alchemist pressed his palms together and a bolt of crimson lightening lashed out at the catapult, pulverizing it.

"You appear to have some skill. I am Solf J. Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist," Kimblee said.

The Ishvalan alchemist punched the wall of the building next to him and a stone spike shot out of the wall, toward Kimblee.

Kimblee swayed slightly and the spike missed him by inches.

"Enough of this," Kimblee said, clapping his hands.

A blast from the ground in front of the Ishvalan knocked him flat. The next clap caused earth to flow over his legs and remaining arm. He was now pinned to the ground, unable to move.

"Manners. You should at least introduce yourself before you try to kill someone," Kimblee said.

"Names are sacred. You are already taking my life. You don't get to take anything else," The Ishvalan alchemist snapped.

"Don't you want to be remembered instead of being just another faceless Ishvalan killed in this war?" Kimblee asked.

Sweat poured down the Ishvalan's face and into his eyes. His glasses had been knocked off by the blast that had sent him to the ground and he was now squinting. He strained against the earth, but Kimblee's bond held fast.

"Names are sacred," he repeated. "A monster like you would profane both my name and my memory. I don't want to be remembered by you."

Kimblee arched an eyebrow. "Monster. Isn't that going just a bit too far? There is a war on, in case you haven't noticed and your people have killed as well as mine."

"Not innocents," The alchemist protested.

Kimblee shrugged. "When it comes to war, there are no innocents. Only soldiers and those who assist them. Now. Your name?"

The alchemist said nothing, he merely glared at Kimblee.

The Crimson Alchemist sighed. "Fine then. Be selfish."

He touched his palms together a final time and a line of crimson power exploded towards the helpless alchemist, causing another smoke cloud.

When it cleared the Ishvalan alchemist was gone, his body, most likely, scattered around the courtyard in microscopic pieces.

A/N: That is the first chapter! I will try to make sure another follows soon.


	2. Unleashed

For a moment, Kimblee stood and surveyed the courtyard, like a master painter examining his work. There was something hypnotic about the pattern of dead bodies. The courtyard was to Kimblee an elegant statement written in blood red ink.

For every other person, including the Amestrian soldier in his blue uniform at the foot of the building stood on, it was a nightmarish jumble of blood and bodies.

"M-Major Kimblee?" The soldier stammered.

Kimblee glanced down from the top of the building at the soldier.

"Yes?"

The soldier looked back at Kimblee and stared. Blood and bodies littered the ground, but Kimblee stood above it all, pristine and untouched by blood or smoke.

"General Panzer request your presence at headquarters, sir," the soldier said, saluting.

Kimblee used the cracks in the building his alchemy had made to climb down. He looked back at the courtyard and sighed.

"Why can't the bureaucrats wait until night fall? So many Ishvalans to kill and so little daylight to do it with."

The soldier eyed Kimblee and took a step back. He had heard stories about the Crimson Alchemist, but if anything the stories had downplayed how violent Kimblee was.

What a psycho, the soldier thought.

His hands started shaking slightly as he followed Kimblee down the street.

The Crimson Alchemist reached the corner of the street then stopped abruptly and turned around to face the soldier.

The soldier nearly jumped out of his skin. His hands flew to his pistol grip.

Kimblee raised a long thin black eyebrow. "I can get there by myself, thank you."

The soldier gulped, "Sir, the general insisted that I accompany you. He told me to make sure you got to headquarters."

The soldier didn't add that the general had told him to do it by any means necessary. The glint in Kimblee's eyes, however, showed that he understood the situation perfectly.

Kimblee looked at the name on the soldier's uniform. "Tell me, Sergeant Martin. Is this the first time since the war began that you have actually stepped on the battlefield?"

Sergeant Martin froze. His hands, soft and white, unused to being stained with anything but ink were now shaking violently. If his pistol hadn't been in its holster, he would have dropped it.

"I thought so. How can you call yourself a solder. You are nothing but a glorified secretary. Draw your gun and you are more likely to shoot yourself then me. But don't worry. I am going to headquarters. You can just tag along behind me like a good little secretary."

With that, the Crimson Alchemist turned and started walking again.

Sergeant Martin trailed behind Kimblee, no less afraid of the Crimson Alchemist then before.

Ahead of him, Kimblee smiled and savored Martin's terror.

The streets they walked through were gray cobblestone surrounded by gray buildings. This area of Ishval had been under military control for some time. All the bodies had been cleared away and the blood cleaned off.

Kimblee thought the streets looked drab and colorless. The sooner he got out of them and back to the front lines the better. Bureaucrats made everything boring.

Headquarters had been set up in abandoned house near the center of the city. Close enough to get reports from the front line fast, but far enough away to keep the green banners with a white dragon on them outside the door pristine.

The uniforms and rifles of the two soldiers outside were likewise pristine.

Leave it to bureaucrat to care more about how shiny a soldier's weapon is then whether or not he can actually fire it, Kimblee thought.

"I do believe the good general is expecting me," Kimblee told the door guards.

One of them nodded and opened the door for him.

Kimblee entered with Martin stumbling in behind him, so glad to not be responsible for Kimblee anymore that the sergeant almost fell over.

"I appreciate you telling Martin to stay with me. So kind of you to make sure I didn't get lost," Kimblee said.

The group of generals standing around the tactical table with a marked map of Ishval, looked up.

"Watch your tone, Major. I am your superior officer and I deserve respect," the bald general, General Panzer, snapped.

Looking at the men before him, Kimblee saw men in crisp uniforms who had grown fat from their sedentary lifestyle. There was a time when an officer was one who led his men into battle. Judging from the condition of these, old fogeys, it had been decades since any of them had taken a life. They did not deserve Kimblee's respect nor his allegiance. The only reason he still obeyed them was because they let him do what he enjoyed most in the world.

"Sorry, sir," Kimblee said, keeping his voice flat and neutral, "I am here as you requested."

General Panzer looked at Kimblee for a moment. Probably trying to figure out in that bald empty skull of his if Kimblee was mocking him, then he grunted. "Apology accepted. How has the weapon performed?"

Kimblee turned around long enough to spit up the red stone lodged in his stomach and then turned back to General Panzer.

"It is amazing. It allows me to completely bypass the Law of Equivalent exchange," Kimblee said.

The Philospher's stone, bought with the souls of thousands of Ishvalans, glittered in his palms, looking almost like a simple, normal ruby.

"Excellent. You can tell us all about it in your report," General Panzer said.

He held out his hand.

It took Kimblee a moment to realize what he wanted.

General Panzer wanted the Philospher's stone. He wanted to take it away from Kimblee. With the war in Ishval all but won, there was no need to let Kimblee use the stone to cow the enemy. Kimblee had been allowed to have his fun off leash, but now they wanted to rein him in.

Kimblee's hand tightened around the stone, his stone. Kimblee was done being a good military dog and following orders. The time had come for him to slip his collar and be off the leash for good.

Without warning, Kimblee tossed the stone into his mouth and swallowed it.

General Panzer yelled something and a couple of his colleagues started to move towards Kimblee, but Kimblee wasn't paying him any attention any more.

"I guess that makes you the only one who know I have the stone," Kimblee said.

He clapped his hands together and crimson power hurtled at the generals exploding and kicking up a storm of smoke and dust.

Kimblee heard the soldiers outside yelling in confusion and Sergeant Martin coughing somewhere in the smoke cloud.

Kimblee located Martin and grabbed him by the collar, causing the man to scream in terror.

"I am going to let you live. You will carry a message for me to Central command. Tell them that the stone is mine now. Let them try to take it from me. If they dare," Kimblee said.

Then he dropped the sergeant and strode out of headquarters.

Both of the guards outside were sprawled on the ground.

Kimblee dismissed them as not worth his time.

The Crimson Alchemist was on the loose.


	3. The Flame Alchemist

"That was all about a week ago. Since then the Crimson Alchemist has struck multiple times. The method of killing is never the same. The victims are Amestrian, Ishvalan, or sometimes a mix of both. No one can predict his movements. He is an alchemist and so are you. You, therefore, have the best chance of finding and apprehending him."

Major Mustang stood at attention, listening as General Raven explained the situation.

I am not surprised that Kimblee fell off the wagon. He always seemed like he had a few screws loose, Mustang thought.

"Capturing the Crimson Alchemist is of top priority. The war is ending and we can't afford to have one of our own messing that up. You will have the full cooperation of the Amestrian military on this. A squad of three has been assigned to you. They are waiting for you at the briefing table. To help speed this along, you have been temporarily given the rank of Lieutenant Colonel," The general continued.

Mustang bit his lip to keep from gasping. A promotion, even a temporary one, was an unexpected gift.

General Raven paused and grinned at the tense young man. It was almost as if he knew what Mustang was thinking.

"Perform well in this matter and the rank change will be permanent."

Mustang's face remained blank, but inside he was grinning. The rank of Lieutenant Colonel. One step closer to the top.

General Raven studied Mustang for a moment, "I don't need to tell you what happens if you fail."

Mustang shuddered inwardly.

If he failed then Kimblee would decorated the streets of Ishval with his blood.

"No, sir," Mustang answered.

General Raven nodded, "Good. You are dismissed, Lieutenant Colonel. Go brief your squad."

Mustang saluted and took the map General Raven handed to him then left the tent.

The camp of the Amestrian military was not as crowded as it had been. With the war ending, some soldiers had gone home. Some on their own two and too many of them in simple wooden coffin, but Mustang still had to weave his way through a crowd soldiers and tents.

He did so automatically, barely registering the faces in front of him.

He knew Kimblee would not go down easy. Mustang wasn't sure he could beat the rogue alchemist, but he had try. Whatever it took to get the rank of Lieutenant Colonel permanently.

The briefing table was a small wooden table were squad leaders would sit with their men on wooden stumps that served as seats and give them their orders. It wasn't all that far from the command tent. He could already hear voices coming from the direction it was in.

"I am telling you, I never thought she could look more angelic, but just look at this picture she sent me of her with her new hairstyle! She looks even cuter now then she did before!"

Mustang closed his eyes for a moment and groaned.

"I recognized that voice. Don't tell me.." He muttered as he turned the corner.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting at the briefing table with his glasses slightly askew and his green eyes filled with excitement as he held out a photograph for the soldier sitting across from him to see. Major Maes Hughes, love bird and non stop babbler.

The victim of his latest babbling session sat with her rifle propped against her shoulder. Her short blond hair shone like the gold in the afternoon sunlight. Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was being far more patient with Hughes then Mustang ever would be. Then again, she was a sharp-shooter. They were known for their patience.

The third member of the group focused more attention on Hawkeye then on the photograph and Hughes. Like Hawkeye, he had short blond hair and held his rifle like he was an expert shot, but there the similarities between the town ended. The acrid stench from the cigarette in the man's mouth made Mustang wrinkle his nose.

"The lieutenant here would know all about being an angel given that she is one already," he said, with a sly wink.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, "Havoc, how many times do I have to tell you to lay off. I am not interested in being your girlfriend. Now or in the future."

"Depends on how many times it takes for you to agree," Havoc said with a shrug.

"Am I interrupting something?" Mustang asked.

Hughes looked up and grinned, "Roy, I didn't realize you were the alchemist assigned to this case."

Hawkeye rose to her feet and saluted, "Good to see you again, Sir."

Mustang nodded to her.

"Likewise," he said.

He cast a dubious glance at Havoc, who had neither gotten up nor saluted him.

"And you are?"

"Lieutenant Jean Havoc. And you are?" Havoc asked.

"Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. The Flame Alchemist," Mustang said.

Mustang waited. Havoc did not shoot to his feet and salute. He just sat there smoking away.

"At ease," Mustang said, though the words felt unnecessary given that only Hawkeye was at attention.

"Now that introduction are over with, we can get down to business. You have all been briefed on the target?"

Havoc, Hawkeye, and Hughes nodded.

Mustang set down a map on the table and spread it out so that all of them could see it. He pointed to several spots marked in dark red ink, "Here all the spots Kimblee has attacked so far. Our first task will be to find similarities between them to figure out what he is planning..."

"No offense. But this guy is running around and murdering people for no apparent reason. How do we know he even has a plan?" Havoc asked.

"Because this is Kimblee we are talking about. He is a psychotic murder, but he is also smart. As random as these attacks might seem, they are anything, but random. Kimble is up to something," Hawkeye began.

"And we need to figure out what," Mustang finished.

Havoc took a long drag from his cigarette and looked back and forth from Mustang to Hawkeye.

"I am never going to get a girlfriend at this rate," Havoc complained.

Hawkeye stiffened slightly, but gave no other indication that she knew what he was implying.

Mustang discreetly pulled on one of his white gloves in his coat pocket then gave a barely audible snap.

Havoc's cigarette exploded with fire and quickly burned down to a stub.

Havoc dropped it with a startled yelp.

Hughes was studying the map. "The closest attack occurred a few blocks from here."

"We are heading there first. The soldiers on guard there are expecting us," Mustang confirmed.

Hughes all but leaped off the stump he was using as seat.

"Great! I can show you Gracia's most recent picture and we can talk about it on the way," Hughes said.

By "we" Hughes meant "I will monologue about it the entire way and you will have to listen."

Mustang looked pleadingly at Havoc, who smirked and lit another cigarette.

He cast a glance at Hawkeye, but she shrugged as if to say "You can handle this one on your own, Sir."

Mustang gritted his teeth and toyed with the idea of ordering Hughes to shut up. He was Hughes' superior officer at the moment after all. Hughes, however, knew that Mustang would never enforce an order like that. Hughes was too good a friend to punish for something so petty.

Mustang would just have to bear Hughes'incessant rambling.


	4. Sighting a Serial Killer

"Beyond a large amount of blood and bodies, I don't think we have found any similarities in the attacks," Havoc commented.

They had just arrived at the third attack site, having already combed through two previous ones.

"Did you think he was going to leave behind a note detailing his entire plan?" Hughes asked with a snort.

Mustang smiled.

Hughes acted like love-sick idiot sometimes, but there was keen intelligence behind those green eyes. Even now Hughes was scanning the site and noting every gory detail.

"We have found similarities. All of the sites so far have transmutation marks scattered around them. This proves that Kimblee was the one responsible for the attacks," Mustang said.

"Big shocker there," Havoc muttered.

"War can be one big fog. It is important to confirm details. If one of these massacres was not Kimblee's then it could prevent us from seeing the pattern in all of them," Hawkeye said.

Havoc continued to grumble, but he joined Hughes and Hawkeye in picking over the scene.

The bodies had long since been taken away and put in simple wooden boxes to be shipped back to grieving loved ones, but a fair amount of blood still remained.

Mustang stared at it.

So many dead -both Ishvalans and Amestrians.

He clenched his hands into fists.

The sight was an all too tangible reminder of why Mustang had to catch Kimblee. Not just to stop the insane former state alchemist from taking anymore lives, but so that he could gain the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and be one step closer to his goal of becoming Furher. He refused to let blood, blood, and more blood be the future of Amestris. When he was Furher, he would end the pointless cycle of blood and violence.

Mustang was about to join his subordinates in checking the site when the loud boom of an explosion rent the air. A mushroom of smoke rose above the roofs of the building.

Hawkeye straightened and put a hand on one of the pistols holstered at her waist. "Sir, that is not too far away."

Mustang nodded then began giving orders, "Lieutenant Hawkeye, you are with me. Lieutenant Havoc go with Major Hughes. The two of you will circle to the left of the explosion while Hawkeye and I head to the right. If you hear a loud snap, get behind something non-flammable and stay there."

"Non-flammable?" Havoc repeated.

But Mustang didn't hear him. He had already started running towards the explosion, pulling on his white gloves with their flame transmutation circles as he did so. Hawkeye followed close behind him with her guns drawn.

Mustang slid to a stop. Smoke was billowing between two building up ahead.

Mustang hid behind the nearest one with Hawkeye, waiting for it to clear so they could get a clear shot at their target.

When the smoke finally cleared, the scene it revealed was horrific.

Kimblee stood in the middle of a blackened and scorched crater. Piled up around the rim of the crater were the bodies. Charred blue Amestrian uniforms covered most of the bodies with the others too charred by the blast to make out if they were wearing the uniform. Three full squads worth of victims lay dead, but there had to be more. Someone had to have been the source the charcoal lumps lying inside the crater and the body parts scattered around the rubble.

Mustang felt sick at the sight, but he turned to Hawkeye and held up three fingers.

Three...two...one

Mustang snapped his fingers and sent a lance of fire streaking towards Kimblee.

Kimblee's head snapped up at the sound of the snap and he rolled out of the way, barely missing a bullet from Hawkeye's pistol as he did so.

He came up with a wild grin on his face, "It seems the Amestrian Military has finally decided to start taking me seriously. They have let one of their precious dogs loose. Been a long time, Major Flame. I am guessing from the bullet that came too close to hitting me that you brought the Hawk with you too."

Mustang stepped out from behind cover to face Kimblee.

"Why not make this is easier on all of us and come quietly," Mustang said.

Kimblee shook his head, "I am not finished yet. Besides, I have never been one to take the easy path."

He casually turned sideways and two bullets shot into the wall of one of the building beside Mustang. They had to be from Hughes and Havoc.

"How about the path that lets you live?" Mustang asked.

Kimblee laughed. "You have been ordered to take me alive. You won't burn me to death, flame."

Mustang held up one hand, "True, but we will see how quickly you move when your whole body is one big third degree burn."

Mustang snapped his fingers and a wall of flame swept towards Kimblee.

When it disappeared, Mustang found himselflooking at hastily transmuted, stone wall.


	5. Slogging through Sewage

"He is gone, Roy," Hughes called from the other side of the wall a moment later.

Mustang and Hawkeye looked at each other then joined Hughes and Havoc on the other side of the wall.

Havoc eyed the wall. "He didn't...transmute himself did he? Can you alchemists do that?"

"No, we can't," Mustang said. "He has to be somewhere nearby."

"Freeze! Identify yourselves," a voice barked.

Hughes turned around to face the speaker, a stocky soldier in a blue uniform, with his hands on his head.

"Well, which is it? Freeze or identify ourselves," Hughes asked.

The soldier's face flushed red and pointed his guns in Hughes' face, but Mustang stepped forward and put a hand on the soldier's arm.

"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. That is the only name that should matter to you," he said.

The soldier lowered his gun, but his eyes narrowed. "We set up a perimeter around this block. How did you get past it, Sir?"

"The fact that half of your perimeter is now scattered in pieces around this courtyard might have something to do with it," Hawkeye said.

The soldier turned his eyes on her and saluted, "Lieutenant Hawkeye, pleasure to see you again, Ma'am."

Mustang shot Hawkeye a look.

"Why does she get more respect even after I pull rank?" he muttered.

"Has anyone other then us been spotted in this block or coming out of it?" Hawkeye asked.

The soldier frowned.

"No. Just you four. I will return to my post now. I know you can keep these three well in hand," he said.

"So Kimblee didn't use the street to get away. Spread out and search among the rubble. Maybe he left some clue behind," Mustang ordered.

"Roy," Hughes said a few seconds later.

Mustang joined Hughes and saw a bronze man-hole cover in the street not far from the wall Kimblee had erected.

"He is in the sewers," Mustang said.

Hughes and Havoc pried up the man-hole cover and peered down into the hole underneath it.

Hughes gagged from the smell, but Mustang had eyes only for the water dripping from the walls and ceiling of the sewer.

"Nothing for it then," Hughes said, climbing down into the sewer.

Havoc sighed then quickly made his way down the ladder set in the side of the sewer wall and jumped the last two feet to the floor. He landed in ankle deep in a puddle of dirty water with a splash.

Hawkeye followed more slowly, avoiding the puddle in which the dripping and unhappy Havoc now stood.

"Come on, Lieutenant Colonel. Down in the ick with the rest of us," Havoc said.

Mustang didn't move.

Havoc grinned. "What? Are you afraid of spoiling your pretty boy looks?"

"It isn't that...it is. Never mind," Mustang said.

Hawkeye, the only other person to understand the reason for Mustang's hesitation, gave him a firm look.

"We might encounter Kimblee down here and have to fight for our lives. They should know," She said.

Mustang grimaced, but he knew she was right.

"My alchemy...doesn't work when I am wet," he admitted.

Havoc blinked for a moment and then his grin widened, spreading from ear to ear. He put a hand to one of his right ear.

"I am sorry, Lieutenant Colonel. What did you say?"

"You know what I said and I am not repeating it," Mustang snapped.

"Keep your hands in your pockets, Sir," Hawkeye advised. "I will watch your back."

Mustang relaxed. He knew he could trust Hawkeye.

Mustang carefully lowered himself down into sewer then quickly shoved his hands in his pockets.

Havoc snorted in amusement and derision, but Hughes gave Mustang a sympathetic look before pulling out a flashlight and shining it into the darkness further in the sewer. He led the little group with Havoc behind him followed by Mustang. Hawkeye was brought up the rear. She held two pistols while Havoc and Hughes each held one.

"Hey, Lieutenant Colonel. I dropped my matches. Would you mind giving me a light?" Havoc asked.

"Shut up, Lieutenant," Mustang snapped.

"But I am just dying to have a cigarette," Havoc said.

"Do as the Lieutenant Colonel says. Do you want Kimblee to hear us coming?" Hawkeye said.

"Roy, I think you should see this," Hughes called from up ahead.

Mustang pushed past Havoc and joined Hughes.

Hughes pointed at the wall which turned sharply to the right.

Mustang examined the wall in the light of his friend's flashlight.

"Transmutation marks," Mustang noted.

Hughes pointed to the far wall which bore the same marks.

"There are no signs of an explosion so," Hawkeye began.

"The question is: what did Kimblee do?" Mustang finished.

Hughes frowned thoughtfully as he looked at the walls. "I am going to radio headquarters for a map. If Kimblee wasn't blowing the walls up then he could have changed their course. But why? The Crimson Alchemist never struck me as the city improvement type."

Havoc pulled out a knife and scratched the wall with it.

"Might as well know where we have been. I will scratch an X at ever corner we come to while Hughes takes the lead, Hawkeye guards the rear, and the Lieutenant Colonel stays in the middle thinking very dry thoughts," Havoc said.

Mustang glared at Havoc, but nodded and the four soldiers got moving. They stopped at every corner and Havoc scratched an X. Mustang examined the walls as they walked, mentally noting spots where they encountered transmutations marks.


	6. Shape of a plan

Finally, they reached a corner and found an X already scratched onto it. They were back at their starting point.

Standing under the X was a soldier waiting with a map in hand, which Hughes took from him. The soldier saluted and then left.

Pulling out a pen, Hughes sketched a rough drawing of the shape they had traveled in over the original sewer lay out. Mustang stared at the map in horror as Hughes finished.

Hawkeye frowned, "Sir, do you see something?"

Mustang carefully took his right hand out of his pocket without its glove and took the pen from Hughes. Overlaying the scenes of the massacres over the new map of the sewers, formed a shape that was aching familiar to Mustang.

Master Hawkeye, Lieutenant Hawkeye's father, had made Mustang draw the shape so many times that his hand ached. Time and time again, Mustang had complained that he was supposed to be learning alchemy not geometry only to have Master Hawkeye insist that precision mattered. In time, Mustang had mastered the shape and found that it really was as essential to alchemy as Master Hawkeye claimed.

"It is a transmutation circle with each of the massacres corresponding to one point on the circle. There is only point that hasn't been covered by one yet," Mustang explained.

Hawkeyes' eyes widened, but Havoc and Hughes just looked at Mustang blankly.

"What does that mean?" Hughes asked.

"Alchemy operates on the Law of Equivalent exchange. If Kimblee can trap an entire city in a transmutation circle," Hawkeye began.

"He can turn the entire city, people and all, into a massive bomb or worse. Who knows what Kimblee could do with so many human lives offered up in exchange. What he can do with it will be only limited by his imagination," Mustang finished.

They all stared at the map for a moment.

"Well, then. Let's get some dynamite down here and blow his circle apart. We can pick a wall and explode it. That will break the circle," Havoc said.

Mustang shook his head, "Any damage we do to the circle know Kimblee can fix before moving. Even if we sent soldier to guard the break, he would simply blow them apart and fix the circle. Best case scenario: we destroy the entire circle and Kimblee gets to simply move on to another plan to kill large amounts of people.

"So what do we do then? Let everyone in the city die?" Havoc asked sarcastically.

Mustang pointed to the only spot on the circle that had yet to be a killing ground.

"We know where Kimblee is going to be. We stop him there and he is finished," Mustang said.

Hughes studied Mustang's face.

"I know that look, Roy. What do we tell the rest of the military about all this?" Hughes asked.

"Tell them to be ready to hang on to something. What comes next will shake the entire city to its foundations."


	7. Crimson vs Flame

ustang stood in the middle of a square in the craftsmen district of Ishval. With Kimblee due to show up any moment bent on murder, Mustang felt exposed, but the plan required Mustang to stand exactly where he was.

This was, after all, a duel between him and Kimblee. Havoc and Hughes would help and Hawkeye could be counted on to watch his back, but the plan depended mostly on alchemy and therefore on Mustang. If Kimblee succeeded, Mustang would have the blood of an entire city on his hands.

The bronze man-hole cover on the other side of the street from Mustang suddenly exploded out of the ground and flew at him.

Mustang sidestepped just in time for it to bury itself in the wall of the building behind him.

Kimblee leaped out of the hole after it and landed in the street in a crouch. He didn't even turn to look at Mustang.

"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't figured it out. After all, I did lead you right to the evidence," Kimblee said.

Mustang started in surprise.

"This area has long been deserted by the military and the Ishvalans. I need blood and you and your subordinates have just saved me the trouble of finding some_"Kimblee began.

Mustang decided that Kimblee had been allowed to monologue long enough.

He snapped his fingers and a wall of fire swept towards Kimblee.

Kimblee clapped his hands together and the ground beneath him exploded, sending him flying into the air above Mustang's wall of fire.

Kimblee reached into his uniform pockets as he fell and threw a handful of pebbles at Mustang.

The pebbles glowed red and enlarged in midair until they were the size of Mustang's head.

Mustang snapped his fingers again and a ribbon of flame zig-zagged from one stone to the next, but instead of blasting the rocks out of the ways like Mustang intended, the rocks exploded the moment the fire toughed them, showering Mustang with sharp rock fragments.

He dodged most of them, but one cut him on the cheek and another slashed through his uniform fabric to draw a line of red across his right arm.

Mustang sent a bolt of alchemic power at Kimblee.

Kimblee easily dodged it and the bolt went down the man-hole behind him.

"I thought you had better aim then that," Kimblee scoffed, hurling a rock at Mustang.

The rock transformed into a boulder in mid-air and Mustang dove to one side to avoid getting crushed by it.

He got to his feet just in time to avoid a fist sized rock. The rock exploded like a land-mine when it hit the building behind him, tearing a chunk out of the building.

Mustang snapped and a bolt of white hot fire surged towards Kimblee.

Again, Kimblee avoided it with ease and contempt.

"My blasts go where I aim them," Mustang replied.

The man-hole behind Kimblee had begun glowing slightly since it had received Mustang's bolt of power. At night it would have been hard to miss, but in full daylight it was barely visible.

Mustang's bolt of fire streaked down into the man-hole and a tremendous boom followed a moment later.

The ground shook beneath Kimblee and he staggered.

Mustang's blast of alchemic power had transmuted all the water in the sewers into hydrogen gas. Now the fire bolt had ignited it, causing the entire sewer to explode outwards.

Mustang, standing outside of the sewer system, stood on solid ground, but the ground Kimblee stood on was directly beneath the sewer and without the sewer walls to support it, began collapsing in on itself.

The Crimson Alchemist leaped for the solid ground fifty feet to Mustang's left, using the explosion to propel himself towards it.

Two cracks sounded and Kimblee twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding two tiny tranquilizer darts. He landed on the street in a crouch.

Mustang tensed.

All of that and Kimblee hadn't suffered so much of a scratch. He hadn't been clipped by any of the rubble from the explosion and had even dodged darts.

Kimblee's hand flew to his neck and Mustang saw a third tranquilizer dart embedded in his neck.

It had been fired at the moment the street exploded, using the tremendous boom to disguise the sound its gun made when firing. The shooter had not only counted on Kimblee using the blast, but had precisely calculated the Crimson Alchemist's trajectory before he even rose into the air.

It was the most amazing shot Mustang had ever seen in his life.

Kimblee started to rise, but Mustang snapped his fingers and a cage of fire materialized around Kimblee for a moment then winked out of existence.

"You will stay down until the tranquilizer takes effect or you will spend the first few months of your prison sentence in a hospital burn unit," Mustang warned him.

Kimblee cast a cold, calculating eye over Mustang.

If Kimblee hadn't been hit with that tranquilizer dart, he could have afforded to wait for Mustang to make the first move. The drug now coursing through the Crimson Alchemist's veins, however, made time his enemy.

Kimblee stayed crouched on the street until the drug took effect and he slumped to the street.

Mustang approached cautiously and nudged Kimblee's limp form with a booted foot, in case the Crimson Alchemist was pretending in order to get Mustang to come closer in a last ditch effort for revenge.

Hughes, Havoc, and Hawkeye appeared behind Mustang.

They had each been in a different building with sniper rifles loaded with tranquilizers to shoot at the Crimson Alchemist.

Hughes and Havoc had their sniper rifles slung over their shoulders while Hawkeye was still holding hers and pointing it at Kimblee's limp form.

She poked Kimblee with the barrel of the gun then slung it over her shoulder and rolled Kimblee onto his back.

After peeling back one of Kimblee's eyelids and seeing only white, Hawkeye looked up at Mustang.

"He is out, Sir," She reported.

"Search and secure," Mustang ordered, "and, Lieutenant..."

"Sir?"

"Nice shot," he said.

"Thank you, Sir," She said without a trace of pride.

Hughes and Mustang watched as Hawkeye pulled out a pair of handcuffs and Havoc searched Kimblee.

"She is an amazing woman," Hughes said.

"Yes. Not one sniper in a thousand could have pulled off that shot," Mustang replied.

"You know what I mean. She is smart, loyal, and a great shot. You couldn't find a better match for your life if you tried," Hughes said.

"We are both in the military. Neither of us will leave it and the military doesn't allow relationships like that between soldiers."

Hughes shook his head, "Roy, I understand, but let me give you a piece of advice: don't let her get away."

"I don't intend to. Now that I am a Lieutenant Colonel, I can pick my own staff. I will have her watching my back as long as I am able. When Amestris is whole again, she will be by my side. After that, it will be up to her whether she stays there or not," Mustang said.

Havoc looked up at Mustang and grinned. "Mission success, Lieutenant Colonel. Do you want to be the one to tell headquarters or shall I?"

Mustang took the radio Havoc handed him and held down the transmit button.

"This is Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang. We have the Crimson Alchemist in custody."


End file.
